


Purr

by vasever



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/F, Sex in the Impala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 20:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vasever/pseuds/vasever
Summary: Always women! Sam and Dean (Diane). Diane wears skirts on cross-country drives.





	Purr

They've been on the road looking for Dad for a few months when the first time it happens. 

It’s a hot summer day, barely any breeze, just outside of Flagstaff. As they leave the motel, the start of a long day of driving to reports of will-o-wisps in Colorado, Sam notices that Diane's wearing a skirt. Not one of the short ones she only wears to bars at the end of hunting trips, when she's looking to pull, no. This is something gauzy and brushing her ankles, light green, like what hippy co-op girls wore at Stanford. 

Sam does a pretty obvious double-take, and Diane gives him a look, says, "What? Cooler than jeans, this time of year." She pulls open the door of the Impala, slides in. Sam puts it down as just another thing that changed while she was in college. But she notices that the skirt doesn’t reappear for a few weeks. 

When it does – not that Sam’s been watching for it – it’s the start of another long drive, this time through Louisiana and into Alabama. The last few days have been brutal – a haunting in Austin and then a whole damn infestation of trolls in Houston – so Sam doesn’t pay it any mind and settles in for a nap. 

When she blinks awake, drowsy and sun-warm, something’s off. It takes her a second to figure it out, and then she realizes: Diane is breathing funny. Not panting, exactly, but something like it, how someone would pant if they thought they needed to be quiet. 

Sam opens her eyes behind the dark sunglasses and looks carefully at Diane without moving. If this is some kind of mind-control, it’s better to have the advantage of surprise. 

Diane has a tight unseeing expression on her face, like she’s so concentrated on something happening inside her head she can’t spare any focus for anything else. In the driver’s seat, her legs are spread wide beneath the skirt, braced, riding out the rumble of the car. 

Her foot presses down. The Impala purrs a little louder as it accelerates. In response, her mouth opens a little wider, a moan if she had made any sound. Her back arches against the black leather seat, opening up a fraction of daylight. 

Her whole body relaxes in the next second. Her eyes go warm, her mouth quirks into the shit-eating grin Sam usually sees the morning after . . . oh. 

Still frozen, Sam watches the left hand that Diane lets drop, lets trail over one long thigh, savoring.


End file.
